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the secret smile and confirming nod that assured her he’d refused her stepfather’s offer.
    Ann had gone down to dine with James Rossiter a few hours later, armored with new confidence. She should have noticed the glint in her stepfather’s eyes as he held her chair or recognized the lie in his solicitousness, but Ann had been distracted when she saw her stepbrother’s place at the table was empty. That’s why the commodore’s announcement had caught her so much by surprise.
    “Chase Hardesty came back to see me late this afternoon,” he began as Mary Fairley, their housekeeper, served the consommé.
    “Oh?” Ann had said, registering not so much as a twinge of apprehension.
    “It seems Mr. Hardesty has reconsidered my proposal.”
    Ann looked up.
    “In exchange for ownership of the
Andromeda,
he’s agreed to give your child his name.”
    Her spoon had clattered into her bowl, spattering the soup down her bodice. “He said he’d marry me?”
    “Indeed he did.”
    “Are you sure?” she’d been surprised enough to ask him.
    “I should be. Your Mr. Hardesty and I spent an hour negotiating concessions that include which of my best men will be assigned to the
Andromeda.”
    But he promised!
Ann had very nearly wailed at him. Chase Hardesty said he’d do what she wanted!
    “Now, then,” her stepfather continued, “I’ve gone ahead and made arrangements to have the wedding here at the house on Thursday morning.”
    “This
Thursday morning?”
    “Reverend Schuyler will come by to conduct the ceremony.”
    “But Thursday is the day after tomorrow!”
    “The river’s just opened for shipping,” the commodore explained. “The
Andromeda
’s leaving Thursday afternoon.”
    Ann stared at him, panic burning up the back of her throat.
    “Well, I’m afraid you’ll just have to send a note around to Reverend Schuyler,” she advised him as coolly as she could when her voice was quaking. “Tell him we won’t be needing his services. I’m not marrying Mr. Hardesty on Thursday—or any other day, either.”
    “Oh, my dear.”
Her stepfather looked at her over the bowl of his spoon. “You most certainly will marry him.”
    By the set of his jaw and the coldness in his eyes, Ann could see he meant it. Though his conviction lay over her like a heavy snow, she pushed to her feet.
    “I have absolutely no intention of marrying some ruffian you lured in off the levee!” she said, her tone nearly as icy as his eyes. “I will not be sold into marriage—not even for the price of so fine a steamer.”
    “I say you’ll wed Chase Hardesty!” the commodore thundered.
    “I say I will not!”
    Ann had turned and fled upstairs. She was frantically jamming clothes into the satchel gaping open on her bed a few minutes later when she heard her stepfather’s tread in the hall outside. No matter what he said or did, no matter how he threatened her, she vowed she wasn’t going to marry Chase Hardesty.
    But instead of bursting in to argue with her, her stepfather simply turned the key in the lock on her bedroom door.
    Ann had scrambled across the room and tried the knob.
    “Father!” She smacked her palm against the wooden panel. “Damn it, Father, you can’t just shut me up like a prisoner!”
    But then, wasn’t that exactly what she’d been since her father’s men had dragged her home from Memphis?
The truth swelled over her like water breaching the lip of a levee. James Rossiter was never going to relinquish his hold on her—or on this child. He was never going to allow her to make a life for herself.
    He was going to marry her to Chase Hardesty, whether she wanted a husband or not. She might just as well start embroidering the linens in her hope chest with neat little H’s.
    Ann wobbled back toward her bed, then slid to the floor beside it. Huddled there, curled in upon herself, she was intensely aware of the fullness in her breasts and belly, intensely aware that she was carrying a child. For weeks she’d